Hidden Killers

CHAPTER EIGHT

Jane looked around at the flushed faces of her colleagues. They were squashed into the saloon bar of the Warburton Arms, which was full of people celebrating the weekend. She’d just finished her last shift at Hackney before starting at Bow Street on Monday and was heading out of the station door when Harris accosted her. ‘Didn’t think we’d let you leave without saying goodbye, did you, love?’ Blushing, Jane had been escorted to the pub across the road and now all the team were there. They had passed an envelope around to fund an open bar, with Ron the landlord monitoring the cash flow. He had provided sandwiches, sausage rolls and packets of crisps on the counter, alongside bottles of red and white wine. Everyone congratulated Jane and wished her well, especially DI Moran who had obviously been drinking more than his fair share. His tie was pulled loose under his open shirt collar, and he had one arm around DC Edwards’s shoulders, who was also looking rather drunk.

‘Well, you’re going to be up against it at Bow Street, Tennison… everything is on high alert after the bomb in Guildford today. You better be careful in the West End too, with it being close to Covent Garden Market, where you get a lot of dross, and drop-ins from any of the Met officers going to the courts. Who’s the DCI there?’

Jane shrugged her shoulders. ‘I’m not sure, sir.’

‘Well, it’s always good to have a change of scenery, but it depends on who’s the guv, you know… You can get a lot of flack. If you want my advice, and you can take it or leave it, but…’

He used two fingers to point to his eyes, and then directed them to Jane’s.

‘Keep your eyes open, listen and learn, and above all… remember…’ Moran seemed to lose track of what he was saying, as Edwards propped him up.

‘Just remember… keep your nose clean, right, Brian?’

‘Yes, guv.’

Jane had drunk more of Ron’s lukewarm white wine than usual. Sergeant Harris was also getting into the swing of it and insisted on passing Jane a drink and taking over the conversation. He clinked her glass so hard it almost shattered.

‘Congratulashuns!’ he slurred, downing his entire glass and placing it back on the bar. ‘So you’ll be stationed at Bow Street… Here’s something I bet you didn’t know… Sherlock Holmes wrote about the station in his story “The Man with the Harelip”… no, that’s not right… it was “The Man with the Twisted Lip”… I don’t usually come to these dos but I felt on this occasion I should as, I have to admit, I’m proud of you, Tennison… You’ve handled yourself very well under extreme circumshtances… Have another drink…’

‘No, thank you, I’m fine.’ Jane held up her still half full glass.

‘Yes, you are fine, but you know, we’ve all been marked… every one of us… doesn’t matter how long ago, it’s inside… and you come in here like always and you see youngsters like you moving on, but they’re like ghosts… You keep expecting to see Kath Morgan with her G and T putting money in the juke box, and Len Bradfield over at the billiard table slapping a fiver down… he was a bloody useless player.’

Harris picked up another glass of wine.

‘Sorry… don’t want to put a dampener on things… like I said, it was some time ago now, and I don’t usually make an appearance at these leaving drinks… They’re mostly just an excuse for everyone to get pissed… have you got a drink?’

‘I’m all right, Sarge. I’m glad to have this opportunity to thank you for all your help while I’ve been here.’

He cocked his head to one side, then he suddenly leaned forward and gave her a dry kiss on her cheek.

‘Maybe I know more than you ever realized… you handled yourself well, considering how close you were to Bradfield.’

Jane flushed and was suddenly eager to leave, not wanting to discuss her relationship.

Harris said quietly, ‘We all have secrets, some best kept that way. I have one that I’ve never let be known.’

Jane couldn’t help herself. ‘You, Sergeant?’

‘Yes, but you keep this to yourself. I’m part of a ballroom formation team, and we’ve got a good chance of being in the finals at Blackpool… Old Time waltz is my speciality.’

Jane was completely taken aback as he gave her a sweeping gesture with his arm and stumbled backwards, bumping into Edwards. Moran suddenly stepped in beside Jane and reached for a glass of wine. He had a lit cigarette in his mouth and leaned closer to her, keeping his voice low.

‘We’ll get a few more drinks down him and if the right music’s on the juke box he dances, and we all have a good laugh! He never remembers in the morning… when he’s had too much to drink he always gives away his ballroom dancing secret.’

Moran gave Jane a lopsided smile but his expression was serious.

‘Everyone has secrets, don’t they, Jane?’

Jane was uneasy, not about the increasingly drunk Harris, but about the way in which Moran had looked at her when he had said ‘everyone has secrets’. Did they all know about her relationship with Bradfield, her secret? Did they make derogatory remarks about it and gossip about her being a one-night stand after he had sent her off the case? Jane was blushing profusely and just wanted to leave.

‘So, we’re going to have a snooker game and get down to some serious drinking… are you up for it?’ Moran asked.

‘Actually, I think I should just go back to the section house and get a good night’s sleep.’

Jane turned to put her glass on the bar and thank Ron. The envelope funds had now all been spent, and the plates of food were empty. Pints of beer were being lined up and numerous officers from the station were crowding the bar.

‘I’ll walk you over there. It’s late, and this is a dodgy area at night.’

Moran held her elbow and guided her through the crowds. As they reached the pub’s double doors Jane insisted that she was more than capable of walking back by herself. Moran pushed one door open and leaned in towards her.

‘I just want to straighten something out. You seemed a bit tense after the court hearing… is anything bothering you? If it is, just spit it out so we can clear the air. Do you have a problem, Tennison?’ Moran cocked his head to one side, exhaling a lungful of cigarette smoke.

Jane hesitated, then shook her head. She didn’t feel that this was either the time or place to discuss her reservations, and Moran was too close for comfort. He appeared to have sobered up and his deep, piercing eyes were making her feel nervous.

‘No, sir… no problem.’

‘Good. I have masses of cases coming in, but we’ll be seeing each other when the Allard trial kicks off. In the meantime I’ll give your thanks to everyone.’

She gave him a small smile, doubting whether anyone would have actually missed her leaving the pub. The festive atmosphere inside had become rather raucous.

‘Goodbye then, Tennison, and good luck… Detective Constable…’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Jane walked down the pavement to cross over the road to the section house. When she turned back to the pub Moran was still watching her. He tossed his cigarette butt onto the ground and stamped it out with the heel of his Cuban boot. Perhaps he was aware of her infatuation with Bradfield, and maybe even knew that she had slept with him. But it didn’t really matter now, she was moving on and away from Hackney.